A Scaled Journey
by M Knightium
Summary: After uncovering an odd prophecy, a Skink Chief is dispatched from his temple-city to locate someone far away who could very well be a key in strengthening the Great Vortex and furthering the Great Plan.
1. A Quest Issued

Things were going well.

Tlo'eko stood on the balcony, overlooking the many other Lizardmen below as the Skink Priest watched his kin go about their lives, all following the Great Plan as they were dictated. Saurus were arming and training, Skinks were instructing and guiding beasts to move supplies, and Krogixors were helping to build newer, stone buildings, with some Skink assistance, of course.

The sight filled Tlo'eko with pride. Sure, their temple-city wasn't as large as the others throughout Lustria, but it was stable, connected to the Geomantic Web, and would one day reach the development they were, like that of Hexoatl, home of their greatest Slann, or Itza, where the legendary Gor-Rok once dwelled.

Footsteps caught his attention. The Skink Priest turned to see another of his kin approach, the Skink looking about, crest rising and falling as he clearly looked confused. Judging by the fact he was armed with a blowpipe, Tlo'eko assumed he was one of the hunters, but it was hard to say, considering how many tasks and jobs the Skinks held within their society.

"What brings you here?" The Skink Priest asked. The other Lizardman came to a stop and looked around, crest finally ceasing in its twitching.

"I…came to deliver a message to Lord Toadrus from the temple. Is he—"

"He slumbers, unfortunately," Tlo'eko spoke with mild annoyance, recalling how often their temple-city's Slann opted to meditate. The Skink Priest blamed it on his cautiousness, but he knew better than to speak ill of a Mage-Priest. "You may relay the message to me, and I will act on it as best I can."

"Understood," The other Skink nodded respectfully. "We've uncovered some more plaques and tomes, and we believe we've found something."

"Something?" The Skink Priest inquired curiously.

The other Skink nodded. "We may have uncovered something dire; a prophecy to fulfill a key part of the Great Plan; sealing the Great Vortex." The very mention of the Great Plan made Tlo'eko's eyes widen in delight and confusion.

"What prophecy? What do you know, friend?" He spoke hastily, not even caring that the Skink sought to dictate the Great Plan himself.

"We're still working to piece it together; the stone is warped from time and age, but the others and I have concluded that, somewhere beyond Lustria, there exists a warmblood who may be the key to strengthening the Great Vortex, and further locking out the vile forces of Chaos." Such a thing made Tlo'eko drum his fingers along his chin. The other Skink spoke mere speculations, but speculations could always yield great bounties.

"Who is this warmblood, then?"

"The part of the plaques that contained that are gone; all we know is their name; Medella, and the plaques foretold they would be in the Southlands." The Southlands…that was quite a way away, but it presented an opportunity.

"Zlatlan," The Skink Priest spoke, trudging past the Skink, staff rattling as he walked. "The Hidden City exists within the Southlands. We must send someone there to make contact with the temple-city there and see if they know where this Medella dwells within their lands. How confident are you in this prophecy?"

"Considerably so, Priest," The Skink hunter nodded.

"Then I must send someone as soon as possible. Any chance to impede the flow of Chaos into the world must be taken."

"Should we not alert the Mage-Priests—"

"There's no time!" Tlo'eko grunted, already nearing the doorway. "Any chance to stamp out Chaos _must_ be taken."

"Wait, are you venturing on this campaign, then?"

"No, but I shall find the one who can." Tlo'eko knew damn well it was not wise for he, a Skink Priest, to leave the temple-city without his tutelage and guidance. But he knew who could go in his stead.

And, if he was right, he knew where he would be at this time.

* * *

Tlo'eko dismounted his Terradon, letting the beast come to rest in the jungle clearing as the Skink Priest took a long, deep breath. It'd been quite a while since he set foot in the jungles; ever since he ascended to priesthood, he rarely ever left the temple-city, for a Skink Priest's place was never on the hunt and very rarely on the battlefield. He had to admit, it brought a sense of tranquility…yet mysteriousness. Out here, the beasts weren't domesticated; if he strayed too far, he risked being snapped up by a Ripperdactyl or trampled by a Stegadon.

Tlo'eko kept moving, darting his head about somewhat nervously, the Skink Priest coming to a half when he reached a clearing…one where he sensed something. Someone.

"I know you're here, Krehoc." The Skink Priest spoke. Movement above caught his focus, the Skink Priest moving back as something skittered down from the tree, landing on the jungle floor in front of him.

"Tlo'eko. You've finally come out from your temple." Krehoc was another Skink, yes, but he was a Skink Chief, evident by his ornate armor and a few scars from scuffles and battles. His horned, bone helmet covered the top of his head, ordained with feathers as his upper torso was clad in a bone and stone breastplate, his forearms and shins being covered in the same, ceremonial armor. Tlo'eko knew Krehoc well; he was a bit…ruthless, but he was reliable. It was one of the reasons he lived so long as a Skink Chief who opted for an active approach to things. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I require your aid. One of the Skinks told me they unearthed something, and it could help strengthen the Great Vortex, and reduce Chaos' influence in the land."

Krehoc growled a bit. "Sounds ludicrous. Do they not find something like that every few weeks?"

"This one is different; from the message I was delivered, the Skinks have unearthed a prophecy; a warmblood who may hold the key to strengthening the Great Vortex and, as you know, reducing Chaos' influence in this world."

"Hmm. That is a new superstition, but," Krehoc sighed. "I am sworn to follow the task. Where am I to go?"

"Return with me to the temple-city, first. You need to be armed for such an excursion. I don't know how long you will be out there, so the wisest idea would be to supply you as best we can."

"So be it. Though, out of curiosity," Krehoc was already walking, the Skink Chief removing his helmet to smooth his crest out. "How did you know I was here?"

"You're always here, Krehoc. Your place is within the city, yet you always seem to come out here and…I suppose hunt? Why is that, if I may ask?"

"It reminds me of the days before this mantle was assumed," Krehoc tapped his helmet. "Before the Mage-Priest anointed me Skink Chief."

"You make it sound like the responsibilities weigh on you."

Krehoc snorted. "Far from it. I just sometimes like to roam the jungle, as I did when I was tasked with hunting food for the temple-city. But, regardless, let us make haste. The sooner I investigate this speculation, the sooner I can return to the jungle."

"After you finish the other duties, Tlo'eko." Krehoc growled. Tlo'eko smirked.

At least little had changed with his second in command.

* * *

"…and that's the end of it." Krehoc stared at the Skink Priest for a good, few seconds after he concluded his tale of the prophecy. The two Skinks stood in the private chambers once more, where, naturally their temple-city's Mage-Priest slumbered, something that hadn't changed since the last time Krehoc ventured into the jungle.

And probably would remain the same until he left again.

"So, you want to send me to the Southlands to make contact with Zlatlan, on a mere speculation? Do you not recall why it's called the Hidden City?"

"I do, but you maneuver through jungles all the time, Krehoc," Tlo'eko turned to the balcony again, stepping towards it. "If any Skink can find it, it would be you. All you must do is speak with the Mage-Priests there and see if they can use their magics to locate Medella. And, from there, find and bring them back here." Krehoc still found all of this very odd, but…at least Tlo'eko _tried_ to plan this one out.

"Augh," Krehoc sighed. "So be it. I'll use the remainder of the day to prepare before venturing to the Southlands any way I can."

"I'll have a Terradon Rider give you a ride. I still don't see why you didn't tame one when you had the chance."

Krehoc growled. "I said I'll get around to it." Truthfully, he didn't like them; they always gave him shivers of paranoia when one flew overhead, considering they used to frequently make meals of his kind. But, sooner or later, he'd get over that paranoia and raise one to ride.

"One day. So, do what you must. Be here at sunrise, and then we shall fulfill a piece of the Great Plan." Krehoc wasn't sure how this fit the Great Plan, but, considering his status in the temple-city, he figured he'd never learn what did fit. The Skink Chief turned to walk off, adjusting his helmet once again.

He was still very skeptical about this plan of Tlo'eko's, but he was going to see it through. Worst case, he'd get to hunt around in the Southlands for any invaders and savage them with his tools of the hunt. Best case…well still, hunting, except further.

Either way, he won.

* * *

(This is a newer project I wanted to work on, namely with the inspiration from some friends, and my replaying of _Total War II: Warhammer_. It's odd, but it's something I've wanted to do for a long time. So, here's chapter 1; it'll be updated every Monday, but chapter 1 will be posted today so people can become aware of its existence. This way, I have something else to work on alongside _Happy Together_, diversifying my fanbase and giving more content.

Now, I had to add some creative liberties, considering the lore of Lizardmen, using what I've seen in Total War and my own interpretation. Not perfect, no, but it should be entertaining for those who opt to stick around. So, thanks for reading. It means a lot to me!)


	2. In the Southern Jungles

"These tools should be enough…" Krehoc mused to himself as the Skink Chief returned to Tlo'eko's quarters, now armed and ready to go. Considering the nature of this expedition, he opted to bring what he could carry, and what was versatile. A turtle-shell shield rested on his back with a standard macuahuitl blade underneath it. A long blowpipe rested on his back as well, with a bag of venom tipped darts to go with it, and a bone carving knife for various reasons strapped to his thigh. Lastly, and just because he could fit it on his back, the Skink Chief brought a quiver of javelins with him, though he could only bring a few.

A shame, but he'd make do with what he had.

Setting foot in the Skink Priest's quarters once more, Krehoc saw Tlo'eko by the balcony once more, staring out into the horizon. The sun had yet to rise, further reminding Krehoc that they were up extremely early.

"Have you finished preparing?" The Skink Priest asked.

"I have: the Skink in charge of the armory was confused when I asked for what I did, but he relented after a while.

Tlo'eko turned and his eyes widened. "I can see why; you take this versatility thing seriously."

"Any good Skink Chief would. A good predator is ready to hunt anywhere. I am a _great_ predator."

The Skink Priest chuckled. "You're certainly something. So, let us be off. Your means to the Southlands await." The Skink Priest and Chief turned to walk, Krehoc following closely with the ornate Skink.

It took little time to reach the large balcony where a Skink awaited. Said Skink was currently mounted atop his Terradon mount. The beast was currently munching on something, the sight filling Krehoc with unease as Tlo'eko approached the Terradon Rider, speaking to him quickly before the Skink Priest turned towards Krehoc. "It's time."

"Should I bring anything to the Mage-Priests there?" The Skink Chief asked as he, cautiously, boarded the Terradon, settling himself behind the rider of the beast who tugged on the reins to direct it.

"Only my word. It shouldn't take long to reach the Southlands; once there, begin the hunt for this Medella, and return however you can." Krehoc sighed at that. Clearly, Tlo'eko didn't think his plan through entirely. The Skink Priest gripped the saddle as the Terradon took off, the rider directing the beast over the vast, familiar jungles Krehoc always found himself drawn to.

Hopefully the jungles in the Southlands were as favorable. A Skink could hope.

* * *

"This is as far as I can take you," Krehoc dropped to the ground, claws digging into the soil as he turned to look up at the Skink mounted atop his Terradon. "Tread carefully, Skink Chief; these jungles are not as safe as Lustria's."

"I'm well aware. I will be fine."

The other Skink nodded. "Do you know the way?"

"No, but I have a plan." The rider nodded and, swiftly, took off, leaving Krehoc to ready his sword and shield and trek into the jungle. The Skink Chief kept himself low to the ground, his movements slow and methodical, as he did what he could to avoid from drawing attention to himself. From the records kept on the Southlands, while it lacked Lustrian predators, it _still_ had creatures and beasts roaming…not to mention warmbloods. And not just Skaven, for once. He'd slain many in his service to Tlo'eko and the Temple-City, yes, but _only_ them. The Southlands, however, had others: humans, elves, orcs; all were possible foes and, therefore, prey to be hunted.

Krehoc made a mental note to restrain himself, though, if there were a sizable group of warmbloods…otherwise…well he doubted Tlo'eko would mind if he came back with some trophies.

And, if he did…oh well.

The Skink Chief traveled for a while, gradually switching from prowling through the foliage to leaping through trees. Early morning had, gradually, transitioned into early afternoon, and he still had no luck in finding Zlatlan.

…it was quite ironic; for once, _he_ didn't think things through. How amusing.

Rustling down below caught the Skink Chief's focus. He pressed himself against the branch he was atop and peered down. Below, was…a Saurus! No…not just one. There were a few, joined by some Skinks! Krehoc leapt down swiftly, hearing them all turn towards him as the Skink Chief rose.

"Ease yourselves," He spoke quickly. "I come bringing a message from Tlo'eko; a Skink Priest in Lustria."

"What message does he bring?" One of the Skinks chirped, crest flaring.

"It must go to your Mage-Priest. You all hail from Zlatlan, correct?" The Skinks nodded, as the Saurus remained…idle. Krehoc recalled most Saurus rarely concerned themselves with diplomatic things, and only spoke when needing to.

"I can escort you, Skink Chief," One of the Skinks stepped away from the group and started walking, the rest of them continuing on their path away from them. "We must be swift, though; these jungles are not safe for Lizardmen."

"Agreed." Krehoc followed the Skink, keeping his blade at the ready as he darted his head about. His nostrils flared when he picked up a sharp, musky scent, and the Skink Chief shot his hand out to clamp it down on the Skink's shoulder and yank him into a bush, the older Lizardman doing the same as something walked past. Krehoc kept his eye close to the edge of the bush to see humanoids walk past…no doubt humans. Once they were past, the Skink Chief silently crept from the bush, drawing his knife. One of the humans lagged behind; said human was dispatched when Krehoc's hand clamped down on his maw and plunged the knife into his neck, yanking him into the bush as he silently eliminated his foe. He could hear the others cease in their trek…it was time to hunt.

Gently releasing the corpse, Krehoc started to creep again, drawing one of his javelins and, after priming himself, he threw it and darted into another bush, the Skink hearing a sharp _prich_ sound to tell him it found its mark.

By now, the humans were shouting and yelling in their tongue. He understood it, somewhat, but didn't care enough to translate it right this second. Another javelin was pulled out and the action repeated, Krehoc exhausting his javelins and emerging from the bush to see the five humans on the ground, still and unmoving.

"…perhaps I should have saved those for later…" Krehoc muttered. A click noise left his throat that made the other Skink rise from the brush, the younger Lizardman wincing at the sight of the corpses. "How often do these warmbloods come through here?"

"Enough for us to have to actively hunt them," The Skink nodded. "Lord Fro-Gar fears they'll inevitably weaken the wards that keep Zlatlan concealed, and thus he wants them actively removed from the area."

"It sounds as if your Mage-Priest is as paranoid as the one who sent me. But, regardless, we should go…after I take a trophy or two from these." The carving knife was in his hand in a flash. He wanted to see if he could use their fingers for a necklace.

…then again…that sounded gaudy. Maybe their skulls would do alone.

The air was growing foggier. Krehoc pressed forward with his guide, though the Skink soon found it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. "How much longer until we reach it?" He asked.

The Skink shook his head. "We've already arrived, Skink Chief. Mind your step." Krehoc came to a sharp halt just in time to see some of the fog disperse, revealing he was standing at the edge of a large cliffside.

And, beyond it, was Zlatlan. It was settled in the middle of a large valley, with dense jungles all around. And, of course, fog surrounded it, reminding Krehoc once more why it was called the hidden city.

It was…funny. He was captivated by Zlatlan, and it wasn't part of Lustria; as far as Tlo'eko told him it was a temple-city that, somehow, could survive away from their home…away from the Geomantic Web. It almost made him question how a temple-city of its size survived without access to typical Lustrian prey for food, but…questions for later.

"I can make my way from here," Krehoc rolled his shoulders and turned to drop down from the ledge, claws digging into the rock as he began to climb downwards. "Thanks for the aid."

"Welcome, but…you plan to see the Mage-Priest with those around your neck?" Krehoc looked down at the necklace made from severed fingers and some leather bindings.

"…I had to take _something_ as a trophy. And, apparently, I forgot human heads are quite heavy…far heavier than rat-spawn heads." The other Skink's crest lowered as he turned to leave. Krehoc made sure he had a firm grip before continuing his descent. It'd take some time to reach Zlatlan from here but, at the very least, his task was halfway done.

And then he'd hunt more of those humans. Or whatever else was foolish enough to get in his sights.

* * *

(So…can't really update this consistently.

It's not because I don't want to, but more along the lines that I can't. Unlike the other projects I'm working on, which for the most part are already fully plotted out, this story I haven't really taken time to sit down and plot out, namely because, as one reviewer pointed out, I'm trying to keep this as close to canon as I can, while taking ample creative liberties to even allow such a tale to begin with, considering how alien Lizardmen are.

More or less, I'll be updating this one whenever I can, for the most part; don't expect a consistent upload pattern here. I can say the next few chapters of this project will be considerably better; this was just me trying to get something out there and also explain why I didn't upload Monday…or…Tuesday, for that matter.

Sorry about that.)


End file.
